


The Flush of Fire

by keyflight790



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cuffs, Hand Jobs, M/M, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:20:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23495194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keyflight790/pseuds/keyflight790
Summary: Charlie spends his evening praising his new dragon tamer.
Relationships: Neville Longbottom/Charlie Weasley
Comments: 13
Kudos: 122
Collections: Daily Deviant





	The Flush of Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [digthewriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/digthewriter/gifts).



> Written for the Daily Deviant Kinky Kristmas prompt for praise kink from lovely DigtheWriter, combined with the March Prompt, Cuffs. Dig, thank you for sharing your love of Herbtamer, and allowing me to gush about my feelings for our dear Neville Longbottom.

The fire of a dragon is held within its belly, pooling in the deepest caverns, just waiting to erupt. It’s held by pure trust, faith that you’re not doing it harm as you fly close to its spade, even closer to its teeth.   
  
It’s the kind of trust that must be earned and then commanded. It takes confidence and strength.

It also takes heart. You must be open and exposed to fully gain a dragon’s faith. They have to feel your intentions through your bones and to your core.

Charlie had confidence. He had agility, intelligence, and of course, strength. But he always protected his heart. He left it locked and chained, unwilling to expose it to even the tamest of beasts.

Until Neville.

Neville was the key to everything. To winning the war. To revealing his heart.

He joined the Sanctuary almost eight months ago, and was focussed solely on the invasion of a non-native plants that were infecting the dragons with some rare form of pox. Within days he had discovered the root that was causing the infection, and had eradicated it from the surrounding fields.

Still, he had a fortnight before his Portkey would return him to London, so Charlie took him to meet some of the Chinese Fireball whelps. Neville had instantly cowered in front of the tiny dragons, unable to properly mount his broom or run fast enough to escape their fire. His cardigan was aflame before Charlie could conjure a strong enough Aguamenti to quench the flames.

He then spent the rest of the evening rubbing balm and kissing each pinkened bit of Neville’s skin until he was too incoherent to beg. Only then did Charlie let him come, hot stripes of his pleasure coating Charlie’s palm.

Charlie had found his way between Neville’s sheets every night thereafter, and at the end of his trip, Neville skipped his Portkey and began flying lessons with Charlie as his tutor.

That had been half a year ago, Charlie thought as he squinted into the sky and watched with pride as Neville swooped in and out of air-thrown hurdles and rages of fire. The entrance exams and flight tests to begin apprenticing with the Dragon Tamers on Charlie’s team were rigorous, but one Charlie knew Neville could handle.

When he finally landed, after three hours of grueling testing, Neville stood tall as Charlie affixed the official golden dragon pin to the collar of his dark green cardigan, his face beaming in a smile.

“I’m so proud of you,” Charlie whispered in his ear before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek, as all of the surrounding apprentices and trainers clapped in celebration. “You’re one of us now.”

Any one of them might have mistaken the blush that spread across Neville’s cheeks as pure embarrassment at being kissed by his boyfriend-slash-teacher, but Charlie knew better. He’s kissed Neville much more passionately in front of their friends, even in front of mum while they were chatting via the Floo, and Neville had only grinned happily in response.

This was something else. Something more instinctual - almost carnal. Charlie wondered if even Neville was aware of how his body was betraying him at that moment, exposing his inner needs to their entire audience. Or at least for the burning eyes of his partner.

Later that night, when all the other tamers had rushed off to their own cabins, or to the pub down at the closest tiny village, Charlie made his way to Neville’s chambers. He felt at home there, long ago leaving a few hair potions on the ridge of Neville’s sink, but it was still Neville’s space. Plants covered every solid surface, climbing up walls and intertwining between picture frames, spreading across book covers and even erupting out of tea cups and cooking pots. The furniture, however, remained clear of greenery, his sofa soft and his four-poster bed even softer.

When Charlie arrived at Neville’s door that evening, he smiled and welcomed him, kissing him softly on the lips and wrapping his hands around Charlie’s waist. On some nights, they’d listen to Quidditch on the wireless, especially if Ginny was playing. Other times, Charlie would cook them dinner while Neville tended to the flowers lining the windowsills.

Tonight, however, Charlie didn’t give Neville a quick kiss in response to his welcome. He didn’t rub his arm as they sat on the sofa, or head to the cupboards to scrounge up something to eat.

Instead, he pressed his lips into Neville - purposeful, hard, thrusting his tongue into Neville’s surprised mouth as his hands worked the buttons on Neville’s cardigan. He spread the fabric wide, exposing his thin white shirt, yanking the maroon and mustard fibres off Neville’s shoulders and past his wrists.

“I’ve been wanting to do this since I saw you barrel roll past the Vipertooth’s fire.” Charlie leaned into Neville’s right ear, his tongue barely grazing his lobe as he whispered. Their chests were so close Charlie could feel the shudder run down Neville’s body the more he spoke. “Since you kicked off the ground and gripped your broomstick and-”

“Stop.”

“What?” Charlie grinned as he stepped back to admire Neville’s flushed skin, the rapid rise and fall of his chest, his eyes - wide and blue and gorgeous. “Giving you compliments?”

“Stop lying.”

Charlie cocked his head to the side, licking his lips as he let his gaze fall slowly, tearing away from the depths of Neville’s incredulous stare to his chin, blond stubble cascading down his neck, to the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed harshly. “I have no reason to lie.”

“But you are.” Neville’s hands formed into fists, sternly held at his sides. “I was a mess up there.”

“You were incredible up there.”

“My broom caught on fire.”

“You extinguished it; sans wand I might add.”

“I nearly fell.”

“But you didn’t.”

“But I almost did.”

Charlie leaned in again, this time pulling one of Neville’s curled fists into his own. He could practically feel Neville fighting with his basic urges, the ones that yearned to melt at Charlie’s touch, Charlie’s praise. He couldn’t have Neville deny himself of this; especially not today, when he’d done so well.

While Neville’s gaze focussed on his trainers instead of his boyfriend, Charlie pulled his wand out of his holster and flicked a few movements quickly into the air. Within moments, Neville was stripped, seated and shackled to one of his wooden kitchen chairs.

“What the fuck, Charlie?” Neville spat, tugging his wrists. They were knotted tightly behind his back by a twining vine that had previously found its home around the chandelier. Charlie checked quickly to make sure the plant hadn’t bound his partner too tightly, and after feeling confident about his vined manacles, he placed a quick kiss on Neville’s cheek.

“You know your safe word, love,” Charlie grinned, before letting his eyes cascade down Neville’s seated form, his intense stare, the stubble across his chin. His bare chest, dusted with fine blond hair, the beginning of muscles peeking from under his tanned skin. All the way to his cock, soft but twitching under Charlie’s gaze.

Neville opened his mouth, and Charlie paused for a moment, wondering if ‘Petrificus’ was about to roll off his tongue, but before he could worry, Neville licked his lips and then closed his mouth.

“Good boy,” Charlie grinned, and whilst he had said that before, certainly, he wasn’t sure if he had ever noticed the blush across Neville’s cheeks deepen in colour so much, so quickly. It was the final sign that Charlie needed to solidify his hunch.

“Don’t call me that,” Neville grunted, his mouth turning into a frown. However, Charlie watched, head cocked to the left, as Neville’s cock began to harden between his thighs.

“My good boy?” Charlie repeated. “You’re so good, Neville. So clever, so brave, so-”

“I mean it,” he barked, pulling again at the vines wrapped around his wrists. The tendrils had started crawling up his arms, encircling his biceps.

“Beautiful,” Charlie continued, disregarding Neville’s interruption completely. “The first time I saw you, crossing the fields from your Portkey, I remembered thinking, ‘who the hell is this man, and where has he been my whole life?’.” Charlie paused to watch Neville’s cock grow into full hardness. He wanted to get on his knees, to feel the weight of it on his tongue, but he needed his mouth right now for other things.

“Turned out you were with my baby brother the whole time.” What a waste it had been, knowing that Neville had been in his childhood home, that he could have met him ages ago. He pushed that regret to the back of his mind to focus on the task at hand. “He got to live with the hottest man I’ve ever laid eyes on, and he didn’t even appreciate it.”

“None of that is true.”

“That you’re hot?” Charlie moaned. “Oh, Neville, the things I wanted to do to you the first time I saw you.” He shook his head, and then unable to resist, stepped in between Neville’s thighs and began to cradle his bollocks in one loose fist. “Those thoughts pale in comparison to what I want to do to you now. Now that I know you.”

Neville shifted in his seat uncomfortably, now avoiding Charlie’s gaze. His cock was hard, thick, pink at the tip, and Charlie wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to resist. He let his thumb run along Neville’s length, pressing into his slit with the lightest of touches. Neville exhaled roughly, still staring at the floor, but the blush in his cheeks was now darkeing down his chest in dark red patches.

“I remember the first time we kissed.” Charlie closed his eyes, remembering when he unwrapped the charred fabric from Neville’s chest. How terrified Neville had looked, how much he had trembled under Charlie’s touch. How the entire thing had been like a tease, coaxing Neville out from his fear until Neville himself had closed the gap and pressed his lips to Charlie’s own.

“This handsome man who was just as brilliant with plants as I am with dragons,” Charlie continued, his eyes opening again as he drew his wand to cast a lubrication charm across two of his fingers. They found their way to Neville’s opening, teasing the rim before slipping in.

Neville no longer was staring at the floor. Instead, his head rolled to the back of the chair, exposing the arch of his throat as he whimpered from Charlie’s touch. “Not handsome,” Neville gasped as Charlie’s deft fingers coaxed him open.

“So handsome.” Charlie lubricated and wrapped his other hand around Neville’s cock, finally feeling the full thickness of it in his palm. He tugged once, then rested, just enjoying the weight of it against his skin. “When you’re working outside, shirtless and sun-burnished...” Charlie let the pads of his fingers graze over Neville’s prostate. He gasped, and Charlie’s cock twitched in response, still trapped in the confines of his own trousers. “...It takes everything I have not to pull you into the closest thicket and have my way with you.”

“Then do it,” Neville keened, finally no longer denying Charlie’s praise, but instead letting it wash over him. His chest, his stomach, were both flushed red with the heat of Charlie’s words and touch.

Charlie wanted to take him, untangle him from the chair and see how that rose-hued skin would look draped across the soft, white sheets in Neville’s bedroom, but he held off. He wanted to gift Neville this: his affirmations, his unyielding attention. The bedroom would still be there later.

“They might not see you, but I do.” Charlie leaned over until his voice was hot in Neville’s ear. “How passionate you are about the things you love. How dedicated you can be.” He paused to nibble on Neville’s earlobe, his fingers now teasing Neville with intent. “And the things you can do with your mouth, my gods, Neville.”

Neville shuddered beneath him, as he thrust himself into Charlie’s loose grasp, fucking himself back on Charlie’s fingers. “Fuck,” he gasped, his wrists still knotted behind him, stopping him from reaching for Charlie on his own.

Charlie continued to whisper into Neville’s ear, small and beautiful things about how Neville made him feel, how proud he was of him, how much he loved being with him and showing him off to his friends. His hands moved faster, driving Neville closer to the peak with every word.

“Fuck, Charlie,” Neville moaned, arching as much as he could into Charlie’s touch, melting into his words of adoration and love.

“You look so fucking hot when you come, Nev.” Charlie pressed their foreheads together so he could admire Neville’s chiseled jaw and soft smile. “Do you want to come for me, sweetheart?”

“Yes.” Neville’s lashes fluttered against his cheeks as he let himself find release.

Charlie couldn’t help but look from his gorgeous face down at his cock, red and swollen and flushed, fucking into his palm. He tightened his grip around Neville, and watched eagerly as Neville finally came, spilling his release all over Charlie’s fist and his bare, reddened chest.

“Fuck,” Charlie gasped. “You’re so beautiful, love.”

Neville smiled up at Charlie. “So are you.”

At this, Charlie also felt himself flush, his cheeks heating into what he knew would be a bright pink under a splay of freckles. He quickly tasked himself with untangling the vines from around Neville’s wrists, before drawing him into his arms.

Neville nuzzled against Charlie’s neck, before nipping tenderly at his throat. “Did you really mean what you said?” he asked, and Charlie could hear a bit of wavering insecurity in his voice.

He kissed the top of Neville’s head softly, and began to rub his hands along his back. “Every word, love. I meant every word.”

Charlie could practically feel Neville’s grin stretch across his face as he pressed into his shoulder.

“Can I show you how much I appreciate it?”

It was Charlie’s turn to grin. “Whatever you say, love,” he answered before taking Neville’s hand and following him into the bedroom. 


End file.
